Hero
by ladymiyah
Summary: He calls me his hero, even though I acted so late. He thanks me for acting at all. I wonder if he's really the Hero though, because it's his smile that keeps us strong enough to commit heroic acts in the first place. A story of saving he who is pure of heart from misery and opening peoples eyes to truth. A story in which a person finally steps in and saves Naruto in his childhood


Today, when I walk the streets, people look at me with admiration in their eyes. They smile gratefully at me and say, "Thank you, thank you for opening our eyes." Or they will clasp my hand and tell me what a wonderful thing I did.

But...what I did was something anybody should have done but everybody was too stupid, afraid or caught up in their own sorrow, to do.

He was just a little boy, but what these cruel people that now look at me with such love in their eyes did to him was not right. I waited so long; it took me so long, to gather my courage and change things for that little boy. I should have done something sooner, but, even when I tell him that, the little eight year old boy still just gives me that huge, heart warming smile of his and says, "Thank you, for saving me. You may regret waiting so long, but it does not change the fact that you are the only person that ever cared enough to step forward and help me. You are MY hero."

Two weeks ago

My village was a large place. Cobbled streets and pretty cottages, the picture of happiness, right?

Not right.

Every day, as I slowly walked along those cobbled streets on my way home from the market or missions I would pass a young boy; asleep on those very same cobbled streets I walked so merrily down.

He was gaunt, his whisker birth marked face drawn, with tear tracks that seemed permanent always running down it. His thin lips were most often blue from the biting cold, our village was quite far north of our country, and his bright blonde hair was caked in dirt; greasy and tangled. Always he wore the same orange top and dark, black trousers.

The boy was the picture of misery.

The vile people of my village treated this poor boy like dirt. To them he was a 'thing' for them to play with as they pleased. They hurt him and called him a monster, because, when he was but an hour old his father, a mighty warrior of our village, sealed a giant nine-tailed fox, which attacked our significant village, within him. The boy was newborn, it wasn't his choice.

To be truthful the only reason the beast stopped attacking and killing was because it was sealed within this innocent newborn. He saved everyone by having it sealed in him, but the villagers hated him for it, they blamed him for what the beast did, called him the beast, and took out on him their pain for their lost ones. They refused to realise that it was not this boys fault.

This boy's name was Naruto.

But...the thing was...I admired Naruto.

Every day I would slowly stroll by him, secretly glancing out of the corner of my eye at him.

He amazed me.

Through all the pain he had to go through every day and for all the tears his small, malnourished form cried, he never lost that light, that wonderful light, which always shone so brightly in his young eyes. He never held a grudge against the people that hurt him and he never blamed them. He would just smile as if he understood why they did it. And yes, every night he would cry himself to sleep from the pain of that day, but then in the morning he would wake up with a new, unprecedented, light in his warm blue eyes and he would smile genuinely at everyone around him; everyday he gave the hurtful people another chance that they didn't deserve, a chance to make things right. After everything he had been put through he still looked at the world as if it was a magnificent place filled with wonderful people.

And that made my lonely heart warm and my flawless face break out in a true smile.

To my village he should have been a hero, as his father intended, as his heritage intended, as his pure heart told. He continued to save us every day, yet we used him as a scapegoat for our pain.

No one ever stopped to think, 'what about his pain? What about the little eight year old homeless child forced to live on the streets for something he couldn't control? What about that poor child, who was hated for a reason he didn't know, who, for all he knows, was abandoned by parents that didn't love him? What about that child who was just hurt and confused? What about him?'

And yet, through all the pain, he continued to smile. A smile that reached his eyes, and that was a beautiful thing.

It was as I was returning home from a rather difficult mission one day that a large crowd caught my eye. I was curious as to what was going on, so I purposefully pushed my way to the front of the circle the crowd had formed.

What I saw horrified me.

It shook me to the very core to see with my own eyes how they 'punished' the poor boy.

I watched, frozen in shock and horror, as they first threw rocks at the boy, making many shallow but bloody wounds, and then got bored with that and started to beat him up. They beat him as if he were a punching bag, beating out warm, red blood instead of stuffing and causing deep, purple bruises on delicate, tan skin rather than dents in tough material. I listened in disgust as his small arm was twisted back and I heard the loud and audible crack of a bone splintering and breaking. But the noise I will never forget is the bloodcurdling scream Naruto made as the cruel and vile villagers laughed as they snapped a child's bone.

However, what made my heart clench the most, was the fact that throughout the entire process he never once tried to fight back, no doubt in fear of hurting those that hurt him, he was to kind like that.

I barely noticed the salty tears cascading down my face as I rushed in and caught the big foot that was about to slam into his barely recognisable face. I pushed back the villager into the angry circle of people and positioned myself in a protective position over Naruto's broken body.

I would not let anymore harm come to this innocent.

My emotions ran high as I faced the shocked and slightly angry crowd and spoke in an unwavering but obviously tear filled voice.

"What the hell is wrong with you? If you keep this up you'll kill him!"

The man who appeared to be the leader of the pack replied in a sneering, nasally voice, "And I say good riddance, who wouldn't want this _dirt_ gone? I think the question is what are you doing, ninja?"

My teary eyes narrowed at the weedy man, "I'm stopping you from doing something you'll regret. If you kill him you'll be no better than what you claim he is. How could you even think to look your children in the faces after that?"

"Our children would be proud of us for killing the abomination," his reply was filled with certainty but some of the crowd looked apprehensive.

"Proud for killing a fellow classmate? Yeah, I'm sure." My words were scathing.

"Killing him will protect them!" Again the self assured certainty was in his irritating voice.

My hollow laugh was mocking, "Yeah, protect them from a _child_ who couldn't hurt a fly!"

The man snarled lowly, "That _thing_ is no child."

I felt fury, undeniable fury at the idiotic mans untruthful sentence. My words shook with that fury, "How dare you! You know as well as I that he is the _child_ of the fourth hokage. You know as well as I that he is no older than _eight_. You know as well as I that your child could be in the exact same position he is but instead the fourth sacrificed _his child_ for you foolish and undeserving people! You would not sit idly by nor partake if it was your child in his position, because you understand that your child is a_ child_, nothing but! You are indeed stupid if you think that he is a monster because of something that could have happened to your child instead. You people are honestly pathetic. You stand before me now having beaten up a child, a _child_, because you needed a scapegoat. Yeah I said it, a scapegoat. This _child_ has enough pain and problems in his life without you, who claim to be parents and should therefore have maternity instinct, adding to it because you're hurting. He's a _child_ with no one to dry his tears; you think that he isn't hurting as well? He lost people in the attack too, you need to remember that you aren't the only people that were hurt by that dreadful night, because that is selfish and the world doesn't revolve around you. Villagers, you stand here and abuse an _eight year old child_ because you need a scapegoat, and you find cruel joy from it, just think how much joy you would feel beating your own child if you feel so much you laugh at it here. God you must be terrible parents, imagine how disappointed the fourth would be in you now. If you are going to abuse a _child_ then you have no right to call him a monster. You want a _monster_ to beat, then go look in a bloody _mirror_."

I knew my words were harsh and the villagers were both shocked and terrified at the thought of them having actually abused a _child_, but they were just background to my immediate concern.

I could feel that concern and worry plastered on my tired face as I whipped around to take a look at the bleeding boy lying on the hard ground behind me. One look at him told me that he needed a doctor and fast. Without thinking I picked his small body up, cradling it gently to my chest as it lay limp and unmoving in my tense arms, and raced across the rooftops to the hospital.

Naruto got the care he needed that day and he gained respect for what he housed to save the village as well. I thanked God that the doctors weren't closed minded and were as worried as I when I burst through the hospital doors panting. I don't think he would have survived the blood loss otherwise, and that thought is terrifying.

Terrifying because if he was gone then so too would be his brilliant shining smile, you know, that one that lights up the room like the sun and has everyone finding themselves grinning too without knowing why.

I don't think any of us in this pitiful, but slowly improving, village could live without that smile.

Naruto now lives with me, I refuse to let him be alone again, and most of the villagers are beginning to see him, for him. It started out small; just the crowd I had grown furious with understood my words and began to think differently, working to gain Naruto's forgiveness, despite the fact they always had it. They looked at him tenderly when he was in the streets and glared back at those that glared at him, it was quite a fascinating site. But then, others began to see what they saw, with a little nudging of course, and now hardly any one believes he is a monster.

Naruto still has nightmares sometimes, but I'm always there to hug him and dry his silvery tears when he does so that he knows he isn't alone anymore, and he never cries himself to sleep anymore. No, he falls asleep with a soft, happy smile on his face now, and its heart warming.

I admit that I regret not stepping in sooner, but I am so glad I did before it was too late.

Naruto is a good person, and he may have forgiven me and he may call me his hero for what I did, but I will never be as much of a hero to him as he is to me.

I don't call him hero because of the fox, no, I call him hero because his heart and will are so strong that he single-handedly prevented himself from falling into darkness and in the process he showed me what it meant to be strong. His blue eyes shone with truth everyday and that saved me from my own darkness. And he saved many people from theirs as well.

I may be his hero, but...

Naruto will always be the hero in this story.


End file.
